


Scars

by commandmetobewell



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Major Character Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad with a Happy Ending, Scars, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5129285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandmetobewell/pseuds/commandmetobewell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though she's finally reunited with the woman she loves, Korra can't seem to break away from the horrors of her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I had lots of neuro and was sad. 
> 
> I was listening to "Spanish Sahara" by Foals. It's the final song that plays in Episode 5 of Life is Strange (kill me please, I'm still not over it) and it's strongly inspired me to write this fic for some reason?
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Implied Rape/Non-Consensual Sex, Self-Harm/Implied Self-Harm.
> 
> It's got a happy ending though!

It all starts after the first kiss.

 

All those thoughts, the negativity and self-deprecation she'd been dying to bury all come back. The scars are glowing again, burning under her skin. The poison is singing in her bones, blazing through the marrow and weighing her down like those damned platinum chains. There's a firestorm in her lungs and a blade in her heart. There's the haze of doubt, wavering over her head as a pair of soft lips move against hers. A tongue traces the raised pink line upon the crest of her bottom lip and she whimpers. It doesn't hurt; hell, it's not even a scar that she'd got from… him. Even now, after her recovery, she can't bear to say his name. Not in front of her, at least.

 

Then, those lips move and words breathe into the space between them.

 

"Do you know how long I've waited to do that?"

 

It's a whisper, barely. There's the sound of a harshly swallowed throat, responded by a subtle gasp of embarrassment.

 

 _Too long_ , a gentle whisper slithers into her ear to say. The scars are burning again. _You made her wait._

 

"I'm sorry," is all that's said in response. 

 

Korra knows that she's not physically disabled anymore. She knows that she can walk and fight again, but she still feels tied to that wheelchair. She knows that there's a spare one in this dreaded room, in the closet with all those other skeletons she'd tried so desperately to hide. She peers at it over Asami's shoulder, trembling slightly at the door that is open somewhat ajar. She doesn't know if she's hallucinating, but she can see it in there, sitting and staring at her.

 

"Korra?" Asami's voice brings her back. Not fully, but enough to snap away from it. 

 

"Sorry," Korra mumbles again. It's a word she's said a lot of recently. Surely there must be a different way to apologize.

 

"Was that too soon?" Asami is nervous as she asks the question. If it weren't for the plague inside her mind, Korra would've laughed at how the influential CEO shifts her weight from foot to foot like a sheepish child begging for forgiveness. Yet, she can't laughed. She hasn't laughed in three years.

 

Not since… well, the day she fell.

 

"No," Korra replies, her eyes still fixed to the ground. She pushes down the urge to cry. "I… I liked it."

 

A hand touches her cheek. The scars are itching now.

 

_Don't scratch, Korra, don't scratch, don't scratch-_

 

"You know," Asami whispers, tugging her towards her softly. "I don't expect you to jump into this right away. I've waited three years. I can wait three more."

 

"No," Korra chokes out, reaching between them to intertwine their free hands. Asami squeezes and for a moment, Korra imagines she's the anchor tying her down and preventing her from floating off into oblivion again. It transports her to a time of incense and formal clothing, of a feigned apology from Reiko and Tenzin telling her what everyone had always told her: the world doesn't need the Avatar. Korra shuts her eyes, but _it's_ the only thing she sees.

 

"You're not okay."

 

Asami's voice is a whimper. Broken and defeated, the words slip out from her candied lips - lips that had been kissing her only moments ago. Korra wants to refute it, to tell her that she's fine because fine seems to be the definition for everything nowadays. Her free hand twitches as the scars plead to be touched. Asami caresses her cheek with gentle and soothing circles. She's not a child, she's the Avatar. She's seen people die, she's killed a man - her own uncle - she isn't weak.

 

Right?

 

And so, Korra shakes her head, agreeing with reason for once.

 

"Are you hurt? Opal told me what happened in Zaofu with Kuvira." The dictator's name is a spiced word upon the inventor's tongue, rolling out as if she were spitting daggers, not conversing. Korra doesn't reply and she knows Asami is smart enough to get an answer. The hand leaves her cheek for her shoulder instead.

 

"I can call a healer," the older girl recommends, positioning her body to move for the door, "I know a good woman who makes night calls. Let me just-"

 

"Stay," Korra interrupts, squeezing their joint hands together. Her voice is hoarse, tired even. She's always been tired. Putting on the bravest face she can muster up, she nods her head up and meets Asami's gaze fully for the first time since their kiss. They both freeze, the night air flickering through the hinged window to chill their skin. Bumps rise along ivory and tan flesh, creating a new sense of nature upon their rigid bodies. They simply stare at each other in silence.

 

Since their reunion at the restaurant, Korra notices how green Asami's eyes are; of course, they were always a striking jade green, but they look different now. Hardened, grieving, maybe even angered. They're not to dissimilar to her own ocean pair. When she'd seen Mako, even the usually broody fire-bender didn't look nearly as mature as the beautiful woman standing before her. And that's when Korra realizes it; Asami is a _woman_. The person that'd sat at her bedside, clutching her as she'd bled upon the sheets and screamed like a banshee, she was a girl. This person standing before her is a woman. Asami is different now, but there's still a lingering sense of familiarity hidden deep within those green eyes, something warm and loving, open and forgiving, something… good.

 

"Korra," Asami croaks, tears glistening in her eyes as Korra steps forward. She reaches up and takes Asami's face in her hands, holding her close.

 

"Stay with me," the younger woman begs. She hasn't begged since she'd met Toph. "Please, Asami. I need you with me tonight."

 

Instead of opting for a verbal response, Asami ducks her head down and they kiss again. Yet, this kiss is different. It's rougher, needier, hotter than anything Korra has ever felt. It makes the burning of her scars seem like a gentle simmering. She tilts her head, giving the more experienced woman more access. A tongue peeks into her mouth, probing and searching for all the memories she'd stored away, all the pain she'd harboured, so it can heal it. Korra tips her head back and moans as Asami's teeth nibble at that scar again. The pressure upon the disfigured ridge brings it all back and she can't breathe again.

 

There's an sphere around her head. He's laughing, telling her that her time is over. Her legs are mangled and broken, dripping blood off the edge of the cliffside. Her body lurches to the side as the wind carries her to a kneeling position. She can't move, Spirits, why can't she move? There's no air now, just darkness flickering at the corners of her eyes. Raava is calling for her but it's fainter than before she'd been ripped out. Someone is screaming, is it her? The blackness is coming faster now, her lungs are shrivelling up and her heart is slowing. Air… she needs air. He's growling something, cursing as the sphere vanishes. Suddenly, she's swept into his arms and off the ledge, only to fall into a vortex. Spinning, twisting, curling, dancing in free-fall as everything begins to numb.

 

Then, there's the voice that'd startled her from the brink.

 

 _Korra_ , she whispers, _you have to wake up._

 

Her eyes still can't - won't - open. She's falling.

 

Down.

 

Down.

 

Down.

 

 _Korra_ , she's holding onto her now, cradling her like a mother would with a child, _if you don't wake up, we'll both die._

 

 _Korra,_ she says, the jade shimmering in the distance of the abyss that's nearly drowned her. _I need you. Please, wake up._

 

"Korra?" 

 

The Avatar blinks, taking a step back as she feels her hands trembling. There's fire along her skin, aching for her to touch them. Korra gasps and writhes, unable to resist. Her nails claw through the sleeves and she lets out a feeble shriek. She can feel the liquid burbling under her nails. It only gives her more strength to scratch harder and faster than before. It's burning so hot but it feels so good, why does it feel good? She's tearing herself apart.

 

Literally.

 

"Korra, stop!" Pale hands grip her wrists, pulling them away from her sleeves. Korra growls and protests, only to look up to see _it_ staring back at her. Those lifeless white eyes are glowering, the hold upon her arms tightening. The anger dissipates from Korra's form. Instead, she just slumps into the soft backing behind her. Tears well in her eyes and this time, she doesn't have the strength to hold them back. They trail down her face and catch in her choppy hair. She's a mess.

 

"Korra," the thing whispers, but it's not demonic. Korra furrows her brow, puzzled. It never talks. 

 

"Korra, you're scaring me," it says again, the tan skin starting to shift into something lighter. The eyes flicker from white to green. It's leaving.

 

"Korra?" Her name is called out again, but this time it's by Asami. Korra blinks a few times before glancing around. The room is a wreck. Papers are scattered over the floor. The window's broken and there's water dripping by the closet. It's gone now, but for how long? How many times can she be followed and pestered?

 

 _I thought it was over,_ she thinks pathetically, letting out a soft cry. _I thought I'd beaten it._

 

"Are you with me, Korra?" Asami whispers, her thumbs gently stroking over the flesh on her marred wrists. There's a dozen scars there from nights spent hating herself in the darkness, in which blood had been her own twisted kind of medicine, when hurting became healing. Korra blinks again, realizing that she's shaking.

 

"Yeah," she rasps, her throat dry. Had she been screaming?

 

"You scared me," Asami whimpers, pulling her hands back. She can see the knowing glance in those peridot gems. They flicker down at her wrists sadly and Korra can't help but pull them behind her back out of shame. She's sitting on the bed, head bowed in guilt and horror. Toph said she was ready. She even got the poison out. What's wrong? Why can't she just be normal again? Why can't it just go away and leave her in peace? Why must old memories continue to haunt her?

 

Why can't she just love Asami _without_ the scars?

 

"I'm sorry." Again, an apology. Her entire existence is an apology. She can't even face Asami after what she's done.

 

"No," Asami says, taking to sit beside her. The response surprises the Avatar as she tilts her head to the side, still not looking at the CEO.

 

"You aren't going to apologize, Korra. Not to me, and not to anyone else, okay? You've done nothing wrong," Asami tells her sternly, lovingly, assuringly. She doesn't touch the frazzled Avatar just yet, but she does inch slightly closer, testing the younger girl's limits. Upon seeing no reaction, Asami sighs sadly. Korra keeps staring at her hands, now pulled to rest upon her lap, and lets her shoulders slouch in defeat.

 

"You were mad at me," Korra replies, her voice a soft croak. "I left and I lied."

 

"You were hurt," Asami whispers, the words quivering as they fight to make it past her lips. "I… I should have known you were hurt."

 

"You did," Korra says, puzzled. Asami shakes her head, her eyes hazarding a glance at Korra's callused hands. She stares around at the destruction of the room, feeling something heavy weigh down upon her heart. Three years of thoughts, of theories, of nights spent drinking away the loneliness suddenly leave her feeling selfish. Yes, she'd loved Korra - she still loves Korra - but she'd not seen the real battles that the Avatar had to face. She didn't see the invisible scars.

 

"Not that kind of hurt," Asami replies guiltily, before leaning up to gently tap her own forehead with her index finger, "this kind."

 

"I… I…," Korra can barely answer back as the tears arrive again. Once more, she bows her head. "I'm not insane."

 

"I never said you were."

 

"Then why does it still happen?!" She demands suddenly, the roaring of her voice startling the heiress. "Why can't it go away? Why can't he go away?!" Asami stares on blearily, her own set of tears cascading down her face. Korra forms a fist with her cracked fingers before slamming them against the bedpost. She slams the wood with full force, trying to ignore how amazing it feels to have her skin splitting again. To feel those bones snapping in her knuckles, her legs, her back…

 

"It's not fair," Korra chokes out, letting her hands fall as her thoughts try to delve back to the past. "It's been three years and I've gone _nowhere_."

 

"That's not true," Asami breathes, standing up so she can pull Korra away from the broken post. She grabs the girl's shoulders and brings her in for a long, tight embrace. At first, Korra tries to pull away with the faint cries escaping her lips, but then, as the mewling turns to sobbing, she can only slump against the taller woman for support. A hand runs up and down her back, rubbing over the faintly raised bumps of her spine, now prominent from her lack of nutrition. 

 

"You are so much stronger than you were before, Korra," Asami whispers into her ear. "When I first saw you after you… you fell… I-I thought you were dead. Fuck, Korra, you _were_ dead. You weren't breathing and there was so much blood and bone. You didn't look like you. No one thought that you'd make it. Even as Su bent the poison, we were so convinced that your chest wouldn't rise, or your eyes wouldn't open, or… or that you'd never wake up." The heiress is sobbing with the younger girl now, clutching onto her tighter as she digs her face into Korra's neck. There's so many lines and scars from fights the Avatar had fought alone.

 

"When Tonraq carried you back to the airship, when I saw just how broken you'd been, I'd been so mad. At him, at the world for making this your responsibility when you'd lost your past lives and had no guidance. I was so angry that I hadn't been there quicker. I mean, I got you captured by the Earth Queen's forces, and then I couldn't even protect you from him. I could only just stand there, watching as he flung you from rock to rock, watching as he… he killed you," Asami cries out, gripping Korra tighter. This time, the Avatar's cries have stopped and the CEO's have intensified. "I remember sitting outside your door as you screamed each time the healers tried to set your bones. I was two seconds away from tearing it down until I heard your wailing stop. It took them seven hours to stop the bleeding and stabilize you. Seven hours in which you'd been in so much pain that it ended up causing you to pass out. And where was I? If anyone failed you, Korra, it was me. I loved you then as much as I loved you now and I couldn't save you. I… I had to watch you crumble and I was so helpless, so selfish." 

 

Korra's hand ghosts up and places it upon the trembling back of her best friend. Asami only shakes her head, gripping her harder. The tears are soaking her vest but Korra couldn't care less. Asami, the stoic and always stable woman, is falling apart. The threads have loosened, and Korra comes to realize that even the strongest people can fall, too. It makes her reflect on herself, upon her own struggles and it only creates a deeper respect for the heiress. When she'd gone through the trauma, she'd had a family, her parents and friends, and even the support of the city. When Asami's mother died, she'd had no one. It's then that Korra realizes with a heavy breath, maybe she's not the only one who carries a set of irreparable scars. She squeezes her tighter when Asami finds words once more.

 

"I should have done something more that just build you a wheelchair or treat your wounds when Pema or Kya couldn't. I should have seen how your mental state had been. I could have called psychologists or counsellors. I could've… I _should've_ been able to fix you. I can't bend or fight villains like you can, but I'm an inventor. My job is to fix things. It's the only thing I'm good at and I failed you, Korra," Asami cries as Korra holds her tighter, bringing her closer to the bed. She sits, causing the heiress to spill over onto her lap, straddling her and cradling her closer than before. Her cries ease slightly, though she still hiccups.

 

"But then, even when you were still in so much pain, you put on a brave face for Jinora," she whispers, a faint twinge of pride filtering into her voice. "You knew how much that ceremony meant to her and despite not even wanting to exist let alone show up, you went. You showed us how much strength you have that day, Korra. Yes, you cried, and yes, I took you back to your room after it was over and listened to you as you sobbed, but I never doubted your inner strength. You are so much more than your battles. Both the ones on your body and the ones inside your head, you are stronger than everything. You're my hero, Korra." 

 

The Avatar is speechless for a few moments. Asami goes quiet and limp in her arms, exhausted from her confession. She slumps against Korra's front, her lips pressed to that tan neck that she loves so much. She ghosts her fingers down the sleeves upon the muscled woman's arms. Her ivory fingers taint with small flecks of dried blood from her partner's obsessive scratching. She doesn't hesitate, however, as she continues her path downwards until their hands meet. It's a tentative touch at first, but then their fingers find each other, weaving and folding against each other in order to tether them back towards sanity.

 

"I'm sorry I was mad at you for leaving," Asami mumbles into neck weakly. "You needed to find yourself, and even if you didn't, I can see how much you've changed. You're stronger, wiser, calmer, and I didn't think it'd be possible, but you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. The hair suits you." A faint chuckle leaves Korra's lips as Asami presses herself closer. She squeezes their hands together before pulling her head from Korra's neck to face her. They glance at each other slowly, finally taking the time to drink in everything. It's the subtle things, like how one strand of Asami's hair tickles Korra's brow, or how the younger girl's nose is slightly crooked and faintly marred in an unknown battle since her return. They gaze at each other like staring at works of art.

 

But then, Korra remembers, what lays underneath the vest is _not_ a work of art.

 

"I'm not beautiful," she mumbles, looking away dejectedly, "not anymore." 

 

Asami only shakes her head as she reaches again for Korra's face, drawing her eyes back to her own peridot set.

 

"Nothing could make me love you less, Korra. Nothing could make me believe that you're not beautiful, not even you," Asami whispers, leaning her head down so their foreheads press together gently. A slight sheen of sweat from their crying sticks their skin together like an adhesive. "You know I'm stubborn, Avatar."

 

"You'll say it now but…," Korra can't find the words as a blush creeps up on her face. "But… I…"

 

"Korra," Asami tells her softly, "trust me."

 

With reluctance, Korra tries to argue.

 

"You'll leave."

 

"No."

 

"You'll be repulsed."

 

"No."

 

"You'll-"

 

"No."

 

"Asami-"

 

"Korra," Asami whispers, tilting her head downwards to capture Korra's lips softly in her own. The kiss is soft, chaste, but bursting with emotions. It's then, as Korra closes her eyes, she feels just how sure Asami feels about her body. She senses it in the subtle movements of her lips, her hot breath, her softly traveling hands (still connected with her own), and then the quiet sigh as they part ways. In that brief second, Korra's reminded of what peace feels like. Of what it feels like to be complete and whole again.

 

"I can't fix you," Asami whispers into her mouth as she squeezes their hands once more. "I know I can't mend the wounds inside your mind, but I won't leave you." Korra blinks up at her, tears welling in her eyes as the CEO kisses her fiercely, leaning more of her weight down upon the younger woman to assure her of the truth. Korra gasps into the kiss as Asami lets out a gentle cry into her mouth. Her tears drip down onto her tan skin, leaving Korra mesmerized at how vulnerable someone so strong and capable can be. In a strange way, it gives her hope. It gives her… strength. She feels it - she knows it - as Asami's kissing her, that if everything else changes, and if she never manages to recover, Asami will always be a constant. She'll be her light in the dark.

 

"Do you…," Korra breathes back, her voice still shaky. "Do you promise?"

 

It's a big thing, a promise. It's commitment. Korra knows she's asking for a lot but Asami is confident.

 

"Promise," Asami murmurs with a nod, her eyes glazing as she recognizes that familiar flame ignite in Korra's eyes. Those dull blue orbs are slowly cracking to reveal the life that thrives underneath. The life that had been buried, put on hold, set aside for the benefit of others. She kisses Korra again, already addicted to the way she can make those blue eyes sparkle, even if for a moment. She tugs her closer and holds her tighter, reminding her that she's never letting go.

 

Never again.

 

"I love you," Asami tells her, finally letting their lips separate so she can admit the words she'd been stowing away for three years. Korra's silent for a moment as Asami removes one of their hands so she can cup the younger woman's face. Her thumb strokes over her cheek, tracing a faint blemish. "No scar, no burn, nothing will ever make me not love you, Korra. You're more than the Avatar to me. You're more than just a woman to me. You're _everything_ to me." Korra remains quiet, her eyes simply following the tears that drip down Asami's chin and upon her cheeks. A few dribble into her mouth, but she doesn't recoil. Asami's gaze finally meets hers and the heiress cracks. She leans down, kissing her hard again, cupping her cheek to bring them as close as possible.

 

"I'm not losing you again," Asami cries into her mouth. "I will die before I lose you again, you hear? You're going to get through this Korra. We're going to get through this together. We're a team, sweetheart. I'm never letting you go ever again. I love you too much to lose you. I love you so much, Korra. So much."

 

Finally, Korra speaks.

 

"I love you, too." 

 

It's the confession she'd been waiting to make. She'd constantly been fearful of rejection, of distaste. Of Asami looking at her and seeing a failure. Even now, as the words leave her lips, she trembles anxiously. Asami only nods and smiles bright enough to cast any darkness outside of her vision. She lets out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding and relaxes further into the bed. Maybe Asami is right, maybe she won't be able to fix what's inside her head. 

 

But she'll be damned if she doesn't try.

 

"I… Asami… I…," Korra says, squeezing their hands for support. Asami is patient and kind as she allows Korra to speak. The Water Tribe woman fumbles around, trying to find the words. Finally, after setting her eyes on Asami's reassuring and gentle gaze, she finally nods her head to say, "I want you to see."

 

"Korra," Asami whispers, using her free hand to stroke her hair, "I don't want to push you. We don't have to rush."

 

"No," Korra replies, shaking her head as she leans up a bit. "I've been hiding it for three years… for three years, it's been weighing me down, _killing_ me." She grips Asami's hand tighter at the confession, fighting away the negativity in the back of her mind. Finally, she looks back at Asami and nods once more.

 

"I need to accept it," Korra tells her strongly, "I can only do that with you, Asami."

 

"Okay," Asami whispers, leaning down to peck her lips again. "I made you a promise, Korra. I'm here, love."

 

"Thank you," Korra breathes back, feeling more strength pool into the harrowed muscles that have long since been rejuvenated. Asami smiles at her fondly.

 

"Always," she hums lovingly before kissing her once more. "Are you ready?"

 

"Yes," Korra says, swallowing deeply. "I think so. No… I know. I can do this."

 

With an approving nod, Asami gets off the Avatar and sits on the corner of the bed. Korra gets up and stands, at first not looking at the heiress as she undoes the fastenings of her vest. Her fingers shake uncontrollably as she undoes every button until it breaks open. She can feel the cool breeze against her bare chest, licking against the ridges in her heaving muscles. Slowly, she spreads her arms and shrugs the material off. She hears the tiny, barely audible gasp from Asami and she flinches, hanging her head. Even if she feels weakness crawling back to her like an old friend, she pushes through. She has to. 

 

Korra sheds her pants and her armbands. Asami's eyes are on her back. She can feel those green depths scouring her bare skin as she slowly unwraps her chest wraps. She lets them fall beside the clothing. It takes her a minute to breathe, to realize that she's one article clothing away from being truly naked. She fiddles with her boxer briefs, unsure of how ready she actually feels about doing this. Instead, she licks over her lips and blinks. A few tears roll down her jaw as she finally hooks her fingers into the waistband and pulls them down, as if she were pulling out the negativity with the final disposal of material.

 

Then, she turns and faces Asami with her head down and arms hung at her sides.

 

At first, Asami is shocked. Korra's scars go beyond the ones she'd acquired from Zaheer. She'd seen a few of those ones when she'd taken care of Korra before her departure to the South. But this body standing before hers is scored beyond detail. There are burn marks along her hip and torso. Her thighs and calves are a mishmash of disfigured and discoloured skin, probably from a petrol explosion. A deep, marring gash juts from her abdomen all the way across her right breast. It's then at the she realizes that Korra's right breast doesn't even have a nipple. It'd either been ripped off completely or shredded by whatever caused the scar. Various cuts litter her tensing abdomen muscles, some deeper and darker than others. As she breathes, Asami makes out the jutting of a rib in an awkward position. Her shoulders and arms are completely covered in faint red lines. The space between her legs is equally injured and scarred.

 

Yet, as she looks at Korra, she doesn't feel pity, but pride.

 

"Oh Korra," Asami whispers as she stands slowly. Korra raises her head slowly, but doesn't move or respond. Her hands clutch at each other nervously. Asami sees the hesitance. She doesn't want Korra to feel exposed or vulnerable any longer so she takes action. She swallows lightly before placing her hands on her shirt.

 

First goes her shirt, and then her bra. By the time the first article of item falls, Korra's head has nodded up in confusion. She watches as the older woman strips with determination, her eyes never leaving her best friend. Korra's gaze however, wanders to Asami's frame as she strips down silently. There are tears in the pale woman's eyes as the final article of clothing, her panties, drop to the floor. It's only then that Korra sees the various red marks around Asami's upper thighs and lower abdomen. They're not fresh, but she'd seen enough on her own to know where they'd come from. The lines curve around her waist and trail up upon her back, creating angry red lashes into her otherwise perfectly ivory skin. Korra's heart beats faster as Asami's tear-glazed stare bears into hers, her chin held high.

 

"They're more than just scars," Asami tells her, one of her hands tracing the red mark on her pale skin. Even though the painful memory has subsided and she's moved past the trauma, she still shivers at the touch of the skin. "They're milestones in our journey, Korra. They're reminders of where we've been. How far we've come. How strong we are. They don't define who we are. They define who we refused to be, who we refused to let win. They're the medals we never get." The heiress steps forward slowly, the tears still dripping down her cheeks as she reaches out with that same hand for Korra's face.

 

"Your scars are not you, Korra," she reminds her, cupping Korra's cheek. Their bodies are inches apart now. "You want to know what you are?"

 

Korra only nods, completely lost for words. Asami's gaze softens and she leans in, pressing a soft but electrifying kiss to her partner's lips.

 

"You are beautiful," she whispers, peeling her lips away to kiss the scar on her cheek. "You are kind." A kiss to her marred shoulder. "You are worthy." A peck to her burned forearm. "You are capable." A kiss to the largest scar on her chest. "You are brave." A faint touch of her lips to the discoloured flesh of her abdomen. "You are amazing." Another kiss to the spot above her left breast, where her heart beats. Asami's finger trails down from her cheek to hover over the spot.

 

"This," she rasps as she flattens her hand against the hard skin, "what beats beneath my palm, Korra, this is _you_."

 

"Asami," Korra whimpers, hanging her head again as she feels Asami's lips on her ear, faintly kissing the small chunk that's missing. "I…"

 

"Ssh," Asami whispers, winding her arms around Korra's neck to press their bodies together. Korra gasps at the sensation of Asami's skin upon hers, warm and soft, but equally rough and scarred. Maybe her body isn't as disfigured or mangled, but it doesn't take away from the fact that it's not perfect. It's almost comforting in a sense. Though she doesn't know the stories behind Asami's scars, Korra doesn't feel so alone knowing that she's not on her own. If the heiress can be so confident to show her body and _still_ be proud of her blemishes, maybe she stands a chance to recover and find herself again, too.

 

"I promise," Asami murmurs soothingly, ducking her head into Korra's neck. "I always promise."

 

This time, Korra nods without reluctance.

 

She reaches up and curls her arms around Asami's waist, pulling her closer. They both erupt into tears, sobbing as they hold each other closer. All these scars that litter their bodies are reminders of how many times they'd come close to not having this moment. In the back of her head, Korra knows that both of them are a little broken and worn around the edges, but Spirits, they're alive. They're alive and they're in love, holding each other, touching each other, kissing each other. As Korra squeezes her closer, she knows that even though she may have barely scratched the surface of the truth behind Asami Sato, she isn't ready to let her go. Asami seems to understand the gesture, because she grips her back just as tighter. Her nails claw into Korra's skin as the younger girl pulls her into a kiss.

 

And it's the best one they've ever shared.

 

It's almost as if all the pain and excruciating loneliness they'd encountered during their lives is being replaced by comfort and reinforcement. The negativity is being stripped away with each lash of their tongues, their movements guided by the slow assurance of facing their battles hand in hand. As they move back towards the bed, holding each other like a last lifeline, they know that fear is but an abstract idea. They may not be soldiers, but they've got soul. They've got stories, memories, images, visions, hopes, and dreams. They've got each other, and Korra knows, as they curl up together on the mattress, that's never going to change. Asami had been right. She is stronger, but so is the heiress. Together, no matter what Kuvira or anyone else throws their way, they'll face it together. 

 

"I love you," Korra whispers, finally finding the words. Spirits, they're the right words.

 

"I know," Asami breathes back, laying flat on the mattress so she can gaze up at the tanned beauty hovering over her. Slowly, the heiress reaches up and cups her cheeks again with both hands, bringing her head back down for another dizzying kiss. Korra smiles into it, unable to stop the happy tears from falling.

 

As Korra reaches for the sheets, they both know that tonight won't end in sex. Tonight is about the first step towards their own journey together. As they lay together, entangled and engulfed by the sheer power of their love, they find themselves relaxing in ways they've never done before. It's Asami that has Korra wrapped in her arms, the Avatar's head upon her left breast. She listens to the steady beat of Asami's heart and grins like the fool in love that she is, without even the slightest hesitation. Asami's strong arms are curled around her marred back, her legs tangled with her own pair, and finally, Korra feels safe. She kisses Asami's skin and runs her hands around her back to pull her closer. They both hold each other, the fatigue finally washing over them. 

 

For the first time in their life, Korra and Asami surrender to the land of dreams in _peace_.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I have a problem. I only write angst. Sigh.
> 
> Let me know what you think? I still don't know how I feel about this one, especially considering that it's 2:37am and I haven't slept well in two days, lol. I probably won't remember even uploading it. Sequel? Dunno, if requested sure. I still don't really know what this is, lol.
> 
> Thanks for everything! :)


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